


Puppy Tails - Weekend Away

by Aurora_bee



Series: Puppy tails [18]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Comedy, Family, Fluff, Gen, Holidays, Puppies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-21
Updated: 2012-06-01
Packaged: 2017-11-05 19:10:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/410026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurora_bee/pseuds/Aurora_bee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>John and Sherlock wake up snuggled together.</p>
          </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sherlock made himself a morning cup of tea and yawned. John who was feeding Gladstone looked into Sherlock’s tired eyes.

“Sherlock, you do realise you put the milk in the oven don’t you?” Sherlock looked at the oven questioningly like it was the one at fault.

“Experiment John.” He replied as John took the milk out of the oven to add to his tea. Sherlock had been awake for four days straight now and was finding it hard to function. John would no doubt say he was ‘overtired’, but the whole idea of being overtired annoyed Sherlock. How could someone be overtired? It was like saying someone was overawake.

“You need some sleep Sherlock.” John said concerned as Sherlock shuffled over to the sofa and lay down. 

“Mycroft said you might like a weekend away.” Sherlock said as John sat down in his chair and started to read the paper. John looked over at him exhausted, sprawled on the sofa. Gladstone had jumped up onto Sherlock’s stomach and was making himself comfortable.

“Did he now? And why was that?” Sherlock steepled his hands together under his chin careful to not disturb Gladstone.

“He said I’ve run you ragged this week, and he’s not using the house this weekend, off on some government trip to France. Anthea will arrange a car for you and Gladstone when you are ready.” Sherlock gently smoothed Gladstone’s head.

“On our own?” John looked annoyed. “We’re not going without you Sherlock.” Sherlock turned his head, his eyes sparkled.

“Really?” He asked his lips turning up at the corners. John laughed, Gladstone’s ears pricked up and he wagged his tail.

“Why would we want to go on our own you silly sod!”

 

The car had arrived within twenty minutes, just enough time for John to throw some clothes in a bag. They sat quietly on the trip down, John watching the sun through leaves in the trees while Sherlock stretched out and dozed, enjoying the warmth of the sun on his skin. 

They arrived at mid-day the sun was hot and beating down. The dry gravel crunched under their feet as they got out of the car and strolled into the house. Mrs Welling was waiting for them and took their coats. There were salmon and cucumber sandwiches, hot tea and warm hugs waiting for them in the sitting room. John laughed as Mrs Welling pulled Sherlock down to her level to give him a kiss. It was comfortable just like going home thought John as Mrs Welling winked at him.

“I’ve set up the room next to Sherlock’s for you Dr Watson. Dinner is at six. I’ll be making a cooked dinner for you boys.” She pinched Sherlock’s cheek. “Sirloin for you Sherlock, and a nut roast for John.” John grinned, his favourite. “I think you could do with a nap before dinner Sherlock. You’re overtired again aren’t you.” Sherlock raised an eyebrow. John smirked to himself.

 

They went up to Sherlock’s room first. Sherlock lay on his bed as John picked out a book from Sherlock’s collection to read. Gladstone jumped up on the bed next to Sherlock. By the time John had chosen a book and turned around the both of them were asleep. He smiled, pulled the blanket at the end of the bed over them and quietly made his way to his own room.

It was as large as Sherlock’s although decorated in a more demure manor. Cream and beige, pictures hung on the wall, which reminded him of his own home. The bed was huge, easily a queen size. He picked his bag up and put it on the bed, he might as well unpack. After folding his clothes and putting them in the dresser he looked out of the window. The sun was glorious outside and it seemed like such a waste not to enjoy it. 

John eventually found his way into the garden and sat in a deck chair in the sun. He took his t-shirt off and the sun beat down on his skin. It was so good to be warm, he closed his eyes.

 

“John? John?” Sherlock looked at his reddened friend, Gladstone stood beside him. John moaned as he opened his eyes.

“Oh god. My shoulders hurt.” John cringed looking down at his now blood red skin. 

“I think Mrs Welling has some after-sun lotion that might help.” Said Sherlock helping John stand. “Mrs Welling!” He shouted, Mrs Welling hurried out of the back door and over toward them.

“Oh my goodness Dr Watson, what have you done to yourself. Come inside we’ll have to cool that down and put some cream on it.” John blushed, he hadn’t been treated like this since he was a little boy.

 

John sat awkwardly though out dinner wearing a loose t-shirt, an old one of Mycroft’s Mrs Welling had said. He wasn’t actually surprised that it was huge but at the fact that Mycroft actually had a t-shirt. The cool towels and cream Mrs Welling had made Sherlock rub on his shoulders had done the trick. 

“My god Sherlock, that food it was amazing.” Mrs Welling popped her head in and smiled. “Thank you Mrs Welling.”

“Thank you Dr Watson. I do love compliments.” Sherlock joined in with the praise.

“I couldn’t have done better myself.” John looked at Sherlock confused.

“You can’t cook.” He whispered. Mrs Welling walked over to the table and tutted at Sherlock.

“Have you been lying to Dr Watson Sherlock?” She asked as Sherlock smirked.

“Not lying per se just not trying.” Mrs Welling frowned at Sherlock.

“You can cook? After all the meals I’ve made for you.” John said annoyed, Sherlock grinned.

“He can if he pays attention. I couldn’t send little Sherlock off to university without being able to boil an egg.” She looked Sherlock in the eye. John laughed at the name. “We’ll talk about this later.” The door opened and the cook carried in an enormous tiramisu. Sherlock’s eyes lit up.

“Remember to share Sherlock.” Said Mrs Welling as Sherlock grabbed a tablespoon.

 

They were sated that night when they went to bed. John felt that his stomach might explode, and wondered how Sherlock felt after eating three quarters of the tiramisu. He’d never seen anyone eat so much dessert, never mind Sherlock. 

John lay on his bed with Gladstone on the end and sighed happily. It really was nice to take a break occasionally. He melted into the soft covers ready for a good sleep. 

 

Sherlock was half way between sleep and awake when his door opened. He felt the bed dip as Gladstone jumped up on it. He opened his eyes to see John pulling back the covers. He was definitely ‘overtired’ if he was having dreams like these.

“Sherlock budge over.” John pushed Sherlock’s sleep limp body. “This seems to be becoming a theme, us sleeping together.” Sherlock yawned.

“Not that I mind sharing my bed with you.” Sherlock drawled. “But why are you here.” John rubbed his forehead like there was something on it.

“There seems to be a leak in my room. I was just nodding off when it dripped right on my head.” Sherlock smiled into his pillow. Mrs Welling was up to her old tricks again. John climbed into the bed and pulled the covers up. “Ahh.. Your bed is even more comfortable than the one in my room. There was an old gentleman downstairs Mr Welling I assume. A nice old man was watching an old Charlie Chaplin film, smoking a cigar. Came up looked at the ceiling put a bucket under it told me not to worry and said I should camp out with you.” Sherlock turned to John and smiled.

“Was he about your height with a little black waxed moustache, terrible comb over?” John nodded. “That’s not Mr Welling John, that’s my father, Hercule.” John burst into laughter.

“Your father is called Hercule Holmes?” Sherlock grinned.

“Never let it be said that my grandparents didn’t have a sense of humour.” John looked into Sherlock’s eyes questioning.

“You don’t look anything like him.” Sherlock laughed.

“Fortunately.” John plumped his pillow.

“Your mother must be stunningly beautiful.” John blushed.

“She is, and no doubt you will meet her tomorrow, wherever father is mummy’s never too far behind.”

TBC...


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Sherlock wake up snuggled together.

They were snuggled up into each other when they woke in the morning. Sherlock had moved over so far onto John’s part of the bed that his leg was dangling over the edge. He rolled toward Sherlock pushing him back to his own side. There was a woof. Gladstone was laying horizontally the other side of Sherlock and didn’t enjoy being moved. Sherlock opened his eyes, embarrassed.

“I’m sorry John, he kept kicking me in the back all night.” Sherlock groaned, John smiled and untangled himself from the sheets.

“I’m sure that puppy has a hidden agenda.” John sighed as Gladstone yawned. “I’m off for a shower.” He looked down at a folded up piece of paper that had been pushed under the door. “We’re having your mother’s Belgium waffles for breakfast at 9.” Sherlock bounced out of bed making Gladstone jump. 

“Oh, she’s making them.” Sherlock said as he jumped in the air. John smiled and went to the bathroom to shower. Maybe they were a normal family after all.

 

Sherlock was sat on the bed fully dressed when John returned to the bedroom. His leg was shacking and he was starting to look anxious.

“Where have you been? It’s nearly 9.” Said Sherlock. John gave Sherlock a little half grin.

“Sorry.” John said doing up his shirt buttons. “I had to get changed in my room, and the leak seems to have gotten bigger.” He sighed. Sherlock got up put Gladstone under his arm. .

“Enough time wasted, lets eat!” Said Sherlock pulling John toward the door.

 

They entered the grand dining room, fine white linen adored the tables. Silver cutlery glimmered in the morning sunlight filtering in through the windows. At the head of the table sat Herclue Holmes reading a newspaper.

“Good morning father.” Sherlock said as he sat down. Hercule looked up from his paper.

“Sherlock, lovely to see you my lad.” He said as he hugged Sherlock who stiffened, embarrassed. Hercule looked at John. “Anyone would think that my children never had affection growing up.” Sherlock cleared his throat blushing. “This is my friend John.” Hercule grabbed John’s hand and shook it vigorously. “We met last night, it’s very nice to meet you formally. Sit down John, my wife’s making her famous Belgium waffles for Sherlock.” The doors at the far end of the room and Mrs Welling entered with a rather tall dark haired beauty both carrying trays of waffles, dark chocolate and fresh whipped cream. John grinned he was hungry now. 

“Sherlock, my little prince.” The dark haired lady said making her way toward Sherlock.

“Mummy!” Sherlock squealed as she gave him a hug. John rolled his eyes. 

“It’s so lovely to see you darling. Who’s this handsome gentleman you’ve brought with you.” She said watching John blush furiously his heart rate going up.

“This is my friend John.” Said Sherlock as John reached out to shake her hand.

“I’m Violet Sherlock’s mother.” John nodded suddenly finding himself unable to speak. Sherlock looked just like her. John smiled at her shyly, grey blue eyes sparkled back at him. Black and silver ringlets framed her face, her lips curved the same way as Sherlock’s, just like a cupid’s bow. She was very tall for a woman, perhaps an inch shorter than Sherlock. Then there was the voice like rich velvety chocolate. John stared in awe at the beautiful woman before him, Sherlock was definitely like his mother. Sherlock kicked him under the table and gave him a disapproving look. Violet bent down and gave Sherlock a quick peck on the head and sat down next to Hercule.

“Let’s eat!” Sherlock shouted already serving himself a waffle.

 

John and Sherlock sat around by the pool while Gladstone played with his Grandma Violet.

“You look like her you know.” John said as Sherlock lay back on the lounger and pulled his hat over his eyes.

“I know.” He replied, John grinned and watched Sherlock. He was gently rubbing his stomach with his left hand.

“I think you may have eaten too many waffles Sherlock.” Sherlock ignored him. “Really I don’t think that it’s good for you to sit in the sun like this.”

“I’m fine John.” Sherlock said pausing for a moment. “Do you think Mycroft looks much like my mother?” John raised an eyebrow.

“I think Mycroft is the amalgamation of both of your parents, he certainly looks more like your dad, and they do say the first born always looks more like the father.” Sherlock lifted his hat and looked toward John.

“You think Mycroft was the first born?” Sherlock replied. John looked surprised.

“There are more of you?” Sherlock smiled, although he was looking a little green in the gills now.

“Just Sherrinford, he has an estate in Yorkshire, we don’t see him much. He looks just like Dad.” Sherlock said. 

“Oh, so what’s Sherrinford like?” John was interested now, there was so much he didn’t know about Sherlock, and although he felt like he was being nosey he needed to know every single detail. John sipped his iced tea,

“Sherri’s a bit of a snob to be honest, keeping up with the Windsor’s’ type.” John spluttered, amused at the analogy. “He’s pretty boring. Not like Mycroft.” John frowned at Sherlock.

“I thought you hated Mycroft?” John asked, Sherlock was breathing deeply now as if to suppress something.

“I dislike Mycroft but he’s certainly more intelligent.” John rested his chin on his hand.

“So how old is Sherrinford?”

“49, he’s a couple of years older than Mycroft.” John raised his eyebrow. Sherlock smiled. “I was an unexpected surprise.” In more than one way John thought. Sherlock pulled his feet around to face John and groaned. 

“Sherlock are you ok?” John asked worried at the sudden deterioration of his friends complexion. Sherlock put his hand over his mouth, John tried to move out of the way. Unfortunately he wasn’t quick enough.

 

Sherlock lay on the sofa in the day room, his head on his mothers lap as she mopped his brow. John sat opposite in a white towel and his boxer shorts, the only things that didn’t have Belgium waffle vomit on. Oddly enough Sherlock had managed not to be sick on his own clothes.

“Oh darling you shouldn’t have eaten so much.” Said violet running her hands through his fringe.

“I only had 12 mummy.” Sherlock replied. Violet tutted and John grinned, even though he had been at the short end it was nice to see Sherlock eat with such pleasure. Violet looked at John.

“Sherlock told me that you’re a doctor John.” Violet said. John nodded, Violet had an unusual effect on him. She must have been at least 70 but she was stunningly beautiful. He felt like a schoolboy talking to his first crush, and the little white towel wasn’t helping much. “Sherlock never told me you were shy though.” John turned beetroot red.

“I err, it’s hard to get a word in with Sherlock around usually.” Replied John. Sherlock laughed, and Violet tapped him on the head.

“He always was the noisy one. I had hoped that he would become a doctor of some kind, but he never finished one of the degree’s he started.” Violet said, Sherlock sighed.

“The professors were all idiots mummy.” Sherlock moaned. John laughed typical Sherlock.

“Now sweetheart you mustn’t talk like that. I don’t know where he got that from.” She said shrugging. Sherlock sat up.

“I feel a bit better now mummy. Do you think we could have tiramisu for dessert tonight?” Asked Sherlock. John looked at him, in shock.

“You want more sweet stuff after that? I am not sleeping with you tonight!” John said. Violet raised an eyebrow.

“You’re sleeping with my son under my roof!!!” She said. 

“Oh, no not like that. No really.” John started to stutter. Sherlock burst out laughing.

“Stop it mummy.” Sherlock laughed, Violet grinned in return.

“Sorry John I couldn’t help it.” Violet said. John cleared his throat. 

“I’d uh, better put some clothes on.” John said as he stalked out of the room and made his way up to his bedroom.

Violet looked at her son.

“You like him don’t you?” She cooed, Sherlock nodded.

“I’m sorry mummy I can’t help it.” He said his head in his hands. She put her hand on Sherlock’s, comforting him.

“I know your father was shocked to find out that Mycroft is gay, but he got over it. It was a surprise considering how many girls Mycroft brought back to the house when he was a teenager. But with you, well a mother just knows these things, and John is quite handsome.” She said with a smile, Sherlock wrinkled his nose.

“Hands off mummy he’s mine.” Sherlock said.

TBC


End file.
